A Sort Of Challenge
by wingedraksha
Summary: It started like any other night. Then... it wasn't. Batman/Catwoman Bruce/Selina


Waking up is never fun. It's intrusive, uncomfortable and occasionally more difficult than I'd like to admit; therefore, I think it's safe to say that waking up is about as far away from 'fun' as you can get. And since I _live_ for a good time… it's not really healthy to be the one who wakes me up.

Of course, no one mentioned that to the telephone.

I swiped at the receiver sitting innocently on the small table beside my sofa before I remembered I wasn't wearing my claws, and so all _that_ little maneuver managed to accomplish was to knock the (still ringing) phone onto the floor.

"Shit," I muttered, and rolled off the couch. Landing lightly on my knees, I stretched my torso down along the floor and reached for the phone. "Hello?"

"Miss Kyle?" Unfamiliar voice. Masculine. Polite.

"Speaking," I said, rising smoothly and running my free hand through my hair. I had cut it recently into a short, sleek bob, and I kept being surprised when my fingers found air so fast.

"This is Jonathan Stone, calling from Boutique Nouvelle." I had to take a moment to place the name, and even as my lips parted in recognition the man went on. "You attended our opening gala last week, and added your name to our official patron list. I'm just calling to confirm that and to offer you a special place at our first art auction this coming Saturday." I grinned, the expression an unconscious one, the Cat inside purring with approval. I remembered Boutique Nouvelle now. Oh, yes, I did.

"That's so kind of you, Mr. Stone," I said, trying to keep the slow anticipation from rising in my voice. "I would love to attend."

"Excellent. I'll put your name down to receive an information packet, shall I?"

"Please do." I hung up, no longer angry with the telephone, and set it gently down on the coffee table I was currently balanced on. "Hmm." Selina Kyle would love to wander the art world in a fancy black dress. _Someone else_ was considering wandering that same world in somewhat less fancy black leather.

…………….

I always love it when they have good alarm systems, systems like the one I was currently foiling. It's sweet, you know? They try so _hard_, it would be cruel not to notice. And so, as I flipped up and over to land neatly between two infrared beams, one booted foot in one square of clean tile, the other in another, I tilted my head towards the camera in the corner and blew it a quick kiss. Then, I took a breath and swung my body forwards, cartwheeling over the last of the lasers to land in front of a podium encased in glass containing a treasure my feline side adored at first sight: a delicate silver statue of a bird just before flight, precious stones glinting for eyes above the tiny gold beak.

My claws, lined in diamond and sharp as razors, cut a small oval in the glass case in a matter of seconds. I knew more alarms would go off as soon as I touched the bird, and the Cat smirked with Selina's lips as I reached in and lifted it off its pedestal to slip into the pouch at my waist.

"I should have known you'd go for the bird," someone said behind me, the gravelly voice sending chills down my spine. No. Not someone. _Him_. Whirling around, I slid my hands along the tops of my thighs, thumbs sliding down the leather, and enjoyed the instinctive way his eyes dropped to my legs for an instant before snapping back to my face.

"What were you expecting," I began, a laugh in my throat, "the little lion piece?" I jerked my head towards the work in question, an oil painting of a safari scene. He said nothing. He rarely does. I shook my head and licked my lips. "No, Bats, not everything I steal has to be a cat." His eyes flickered, and I could have sworn he was rolling them. If it had been anyone else, that is, I would have sworn it. Batman does not roll his eyes at the likes of me. Batman does not roll his eyes at _anyone_, actually, though I do think I manage to irritate him more than 95% of my colleagues. Somewhere inside, an indignant little voice remarked that at least irritation was a reaction… I blocked it out.

He was leaning in the doorway to the exhibit, arms folded across his chest, that ridiculous cape flung over his shoulders and hiding most of one side. His expression was as somber and forbidding as ever, though when he shifted and the moonlight hit his face through the skylight in the ceiling, his eyes sparked an almost impossible blue. The Cat hummed appreciatively, back arching against my spine, and thought _Sapphires. _I blocked that out too.

"So, stud," I said with a smile, deciding to go my usual route and intimidate him with flirtation. "You going to take me in this time?"

"You going to stop taking things that don't belong to you?"

"No."

"Then yes." I laughed, and he straightened away from the door. My eyes darted up, following my line and my grapple to the open skylight, knowing that there wasn't really time to stand around and exchange witty repartee. But damn it, it was so much _fun _to bother the Dark Knight, the Caped Crusader, the Whatever The Papers Are Calling Him. I could afford a few more minutes.

I started slinking my way back through the lasers, aware that at this point it really didn't matter if I tripped the alarm or not, but also equally aware of how Batman's eyes followed the way my body bent and stretched. Whether it was because he was watching to make sure I didn't suddenly disappear or lunge at him with my claws outstretched or whether he was watching because he wanted me as much as (I wanted him to want me) everyone else wants me, he was watching. And that was just too good to pass up.

"Like what you see?" I asked, sugar-sweet, rising out of a back bend to reach for my grapple line and prepare myself for the jump.

"Don't even try it," he said, and before I got three feet off the floor he had one hand on my waist and the other at the back of my neck. With one easy yank, my grapple line was out of my grip. Mildly alarmed, I cut my eyes to the door behind him: no one. He was still holding onto me like you'd hold a wet kitten, by the neck, right before you shook it into a wall.

"Gee, if you wanted to get up close and personal," I said, hyperaware of the fact that his body was only about two inches away from mine, "you could have just… _asked_," I finished, punctuating the word with a swift knee to the groin. He didn't crumple, of course, but his grip loosened and I twisted free. He grabbed my arm as I spun to make my exit, and I went with the momentum of my own spin and followed through with a kick to the chin. Good news: Batman went down. Bad news: so did I.

We fell through three of the lasers on the way to the ground, and a whooping alarm went off. Great. Even better, though, was the part where he fell on his back and I, attached by his grip on my arm, fell directly on top.

Being the Catwoman has its bright sides, of course, and I took advantage of his surprise at being knocked over and wrenched my arm away, landing roughly on my knees. That they were on either side of his waist was just a bonus.

I leaned down, tongue darting out to wet my lower lip, delighted to see a slight darkening of those beautiful blue eyes.

"This is a little closer than I planned," I murmured, the part of me that was Selina screaming about cops and boundaries and stupid-ass cats that didn't know the difference between being a tease and being a moron. I ignored her, the Cat writhing through me, absolutely loving the obvious power I had over this particular situation. Batman's mouth was open, just enough to let air out, and I bet you anything that if I'd ripped his mask off he'd have been frowning hard enough to set my hair on fire. His hands went to my waist, broad enough to nearly span it, strong fingers gripping just hard enough to bruise without really hurting. My own hands darted down and snagged his wrists, slamming them into the floor on either side of his head. I had to use all my upper body strength to do it, sure, but pinning him felt better than… well, better than stealing. "What's the matter?" I asked, grinning at him, wondering just how far I could push this. "Cat got your tongue?"

"That's right," he said darkly, "keep talking. The longer you play around, the less time you have to wiggle your way out again." He had a point, but I wasn't entirely in control now and god help me, I didn't really care.

"Wiggle my way out, huh? You mean, sort of like this?" I moved my hips, sliding them lower on his stomach and tightening my thighs around his abdomen. He hissed in a breath, and heat exploded somewhere deep inside my belly.

"Get off me," Batman said evenly, his hands clenched above my own, and I thought he was resisting the urge to just break my grip and snap my neck right then and there. Why didn't he? A challenge, then. That's what this was. Nostrils flaring, I shook my head.

"Make me." It was a purr, and we both felt it. There was a moment of stillness, barely long enough to recognize, and then something happened that I don't think I'll ever be able to explain away.

He twisted his wrists out of my grip in one swift, sure move, hands grabbing me by the head and jerking me down. As my arms gave out with the suddenness of his movement and I fell forward, Batman did the _last_ thing I expected.

He kissed me.

His hands were tight on either side of my head at first, holding me in place, his mouth hard on mine. Then, as my own hands slid back along the floor until they found his shoulders, kneading the sides of his throat as my two inner selves combined in this one impossible instant, his fingers loosened, his lips softening into the kiss that I had been imagining since the first time we fought.

We pulled apart before too long, but probably (_definitely_, Selina corrected) not soon enough. Already I could hear the front doors of the Boutique opening, footsteps echoing through the rooms as police started making their way towards our exhibit. Batman was staring at me, looking more stunned than I've ever seen him. My lips were humming, my body aching for more, my hands itching to explore what was under that black armor of his… and so I got up, straightening with ease, and tried not to clear my throat or tremble when I spoke.

"Catch you later," I said, relieved when my voice shook only the smallest amount, even if the words themselves were about as suave as a high school dork. Then, as Batman rose just as easily, I backed up to my line and was gone.

It was only after several dozen rooftops that I allowed myself to be certain he wasn't following, and it was only after a long, long shower that I managed to force myself to stop replaying that scene in my mind.

My dreams, however, were not so controlled.


End file.
